


Welcome to the Pride

by MagicaDraconia16



Series: Tony Stark's Bingo 2019 [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, F/M, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Post-Avengers (2012), Shapeshifting, Tony Stark Bingo 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 03:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20400697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicaDraconia16/pseuds/MagicaDraconia16
Summary: Escaping from Thor before he's taken back to Asgard after the Invasion of New York, Loki decides that a night following Tony Stark and his girl friday - whatisher name?! - will be a lot more exciting than watching the Avengers have movie night. He didn't expect just how right he was.





	Welcome to the Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tony Stark Bingo, square S5 - Shapeshifters
> 
> And no, I have not been watching the Lion King lately . . . what on earth would make you think that?

It started due to a throwaway comment made by Clint Barton, of all people.

Most of the Avengers had been sprawled out in the main living area of the utter monstrosity that Stark had created.

“Looks like someone’s on the prowl,” the archer, Hawkeye, had said laughingly to the Black Widow as Iron Man and his red-headed girl Friday had paused for a moment in the doorway, clearly waiting for the elevator.

Loki, hovering invisibly in the corner above the door, studied the pair. He’d had a lot of chances to study the inhabitants of the newly-named Avengers Tower after escaping from Thor. Stark’s major-domo – _What was her name again? Some kind of condiment, wasn’t it?_ – was always dressed finely, and Stark rarely left the Tower in anything more casual than a high-end suit, but this time . . .

Stark was in a tailored three-piece suit that was one very small step down from a tuxedo, his signature sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He had an arm casually wrapped around the woman’s waist. She had apparently gone all out for whatever occasion this was, dressed in a shimmering cloth of blue-green that wrapped around her and ended just above her knees. High heeled shoes added several extra inches to her height.

“Don’t wait up,” Stark said over his shoulder to the other Avengers as the elevator softly chimed its arrival.

If he hadn’t trusted his seiðr so much, Loki would have said that Stark’s eyes flickered upwards to look at him as the pair of them strode – no, _stalked_; Barton’s term was quite apt, it appeared – into the elevator.

In an instant, looking over the other Avengers, lazing around on the various chairs and sofas, arguing amiably over what movie to watch, Loki decided he could have much more fun shadowing Stark and his girl.

* * *

Dropping nimbly out of Yggdrasil’s branches, Loki found himself in a deserted business district. Stark and his lady were just entering what looked like a warehouse. Before he closed the door, Stark turned to survey the street outside. Once again, Loki would have thought that Stark’s eyes had fallen on him, if not for the fact that he _knew_ his invisibility was impenetrable by a mere mortal. A smirk curved Stark’s lips, a quick flashing glimpse before the closing door hid him from Loki’s view.

His curiosity biting deeper, Loki strolled across the street to the warehouse. It looked just like every other warehouse in the area, windows blackened and metal sidings beginning to show signs of rust. It was a strangely . . . _mundane_ place for Stark to be visiting.

Resistance met his hand when he pushed on the door, but a brief nudge of his seiðr allowed him to swing it open without having to tear it off its hinges. Thor would no doubt have gone straight for that route – or for just smashing his way through the nearest wall – but Loki was subtler than that.

_As, apparently, is this warehouse._

The interior of the building – Loki couldn’t call it a ‘warehouse’ anymore – was vastly different to what the exterior hinted at. It was, in fact, the interior of a nightclub. People crowded onto the wooden dance floor, more propped themselves up at the long bar running down the side of the building, still yet more were seated at various tables scattered around the other edges. Chairs and sofas were also scattered around the edge of the dance floor.

This wasn’t what caused Loki to stare around in astonishment.

It had been a very long time since Loki had taken part in Midgardian entertainment, but he was fairly certain that most nightclubs did _not_ allow entrance to _animals_.

But now he could see wild creatures of all sorts; not just the more exotic ‘pets’ like the big cats or wolves, but _actual_ wild creatures, such as the polar bear that was sprawled over what looked like a velvet sofa not too far from the bar. Or the kangaroo that was hopping on the edge of the dance floor, it’s swinging tail ensuring a clear space around it.

Or the _water buffalo_ that was half hidden in the shadows in one of the corners, that tilted its head so that one large eye peered at Loki.

“What is this place?” Loki wondered out loud.

Movement caught his eye. A path was opening up from somewhere on the other side of the building. Whoever, or whatever, was coming, it was heading straight for where Loki still stood in the entranceway. The humans were shuffling aside, heads bowed, but the animals were also lowering their heads.

When the clear path finally reached him, Loki found himself unconsciously echoing the others’ respect. Padding calmly towards him was a very large, very regal looking lioness.

The cat paused just in front of Loki and, for lack of anything better, he held out a hand to it – her. The lioness sniffed at him, then butted her head against his hand, before stepping forward to circle him, rubbing her strawberry-blonde fur against his legs in an unmistakable claim. After the third circle, she began to pad off again, and Loki briefly thought that might be that. That it had just been a very strange kind of welcome ritual, accepting him to whatever this place was.

But then the big cat paused and glanced back over her shoulder at him. If lionesses had eyebrows, Loki was sure this one would be raising them.

“You want me to follow,” he stated, just to ensure they were on the same page, and the lioness chuffed and continued onwards.

She led him to the bottom of – and then up – a sloping ramp on the far side of the club that spiralled upwards and opened up onto a balcony area. Something that looked like a cross between an extremely large king size bed and a lounge chair took up almost the entire back half of the floor area, and lounging casually on his side on it was Tony Stark.

“Reindeer Games!” he greeted, cheerfully, as the lioness left Loki standing speechless at the top of the ramp. Jumping lightly up onto the chair/bed, she paused briefly to lower her head and bump it gently against Stark’s, before circling around behind him and flopping down over his legs.

It was at this point that Loki finally remembered that Tony Stark shouldn’t have been able to see him, as he’d been so astonished at the interior of the club and then seeing the lioness that he hadn’t bothered to remove his seiðr.

“You can see me?” he asked, stepping closer.

Stark made an odd gesture with one hand. “Yes, and no,” he replied. “I can’t see _you_, as such, but I _can_ see your magic, so I’ve got a rough idea.”

“You can—” Loki’s voice trailed off. _A mere lowly mortal could see his magic? How could that possibly—_ He glanced at the lioness still lying over Stark’s legs, and somehow looking smug. _Oh_. “You’re a shapeshifter,” he said to Stark, then glanced over his shoulder to the floor of the club below. “You’re _all_ shapeshifters here.”

Stark grinned at him, fierce and wild and _sharp_, and Loki felt a shiver go down his spine. He was fairly certain he’d worn that look himself a time or two. He suddenly understood why it made most people – _except Thor; the stupid oblivious oaf_ – wary of him.

“We are indeed,” said Stark, and he gestured expansively with one arm. “Welcome to my kingdom!”

* * *

“You own the building,” Loki observed some small time later from the edge of the bed where he’d seated himself. He’d allowed his seiðr to slip away, letting Stark and the lioness – presumably his female companion, _what WAS her name?_ – see him fully.

Stark smiled, and toasted him with one of the glasses he’d had a server bring up for them all. “I do,” he said, then corrected himself when the lioness still beside him huffed in disdain. “_We_ do, Pepper and I.” _Pepper! That was her name!_ “We wanted somewhere where we could relax, let ourselves go wild, but it’s very hard to find a place like that in the middle of one of the busiest, most crowded cities in the world.”

“So you made your own,” said Loki.

“So we made our own,” Stark agreed, taking a sip of whatever was in the glass; Loki hadn’t even made a move to drink out of his yet. “And we put the word out. The club’s open twenty-four-seven, but Pep and I usually call in once a month or so.”

Getting to his feet, Loki went to stand against the rail of the balcony, his gaze scanning the floor below. “So many different animals,” he mused, half to himself. “We – I – _Asgard_ weren’t aware that Midgard even had the technological advances we do, let alone . . . _this_.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you aren’t paying attention; people surprise you,” Stark said from just behind Loki’s shoulder, and the bitterness in his tone made the demi-god turn.

“You mistake me,” said Loki. “I am not . . . angered, or condescending, or whatever else you may think I am. I am . . . _delighted_ to discover that there are magic users such as this on Midgard. I am . . . _amazed_ that I didn’t see it in you before.”

“Before or after you threw me out the window?” Stark asked, wryly.

Loki paused. “I . . . apologise . . . for that,” he said slowly, almost physically feeling each word as it left his mouth. “It was not an action of my own choosing.” Stark raised an eyebrow at him, and Loki felt one side of his mouth curl up into a rueful smile. “Fine, I _chose_ to remove an opponent from my path by throwing you out of the window,” he conceded. “But I wouldn’t have done so if my overall actions weren’t being overridden at the time.”

From behind them, Pepper made a confused rumbling sound, and Stark frowned. “Overridden?” he repeated. “You mean you were brainwashed like Clint and Selvig were?”

“Yes.” Loki nodded. “The sceptre I had? It contains the Mind Stone, one of the Infinity Stones. I was given it to control others, even as it controlled me.”

The lioness made an unhappy noise, and Loki flicked a glance over his shoulder at her. Her fangs were bared, but she didn’t look ready to pounce, so he presumed her ire was over the information he’d just shared, rather than with him.

Stark also glanced at the lioness, then took Loki’s still untouched glass from his hand and drank the contents in one go. He tossed the empty glass over his shoulder in the direction of the bed and pointed a finger at Loki. “We’re going to come back to that,” he said, “but for now, I think it’s time for everyone to relax.” He looked back at Loki and smiled. “You’re welcome to join us, in whatever form you want,” he added, and before Loki could answer either yay or nay, the man was already falling away, was already _changing_.

Loki watched in awe as what emerged was an extremely large lion. Its head reached almost to the middle of his chest. Tawny-coloured fur covered its body, and its mane was thick, full and so dark a brown that it almost appeared black. Stark looked up into Loki’s face and wrinkled his muzzle, taking in the Asgardian’s scent, before he butted his head into Loki’s chest and gave a deep rumble.

“Are you . . . _purring_ at me?” Loki asked, amused, resting a hand on Stark’s mane, wriggling his fingers deep into the strands. Stark gave a brief huff and moved his head in an unmistakable negative movement. Then he backed up several steps and glanced sideways at Pepper, who stretched, yawned, and slid her way off the bed to stand at his side.

The two large felines looked enquiringly at Loki. With a smirk, he _twisted_ his seiðr, and shrank down. When he was done, his cat form sat calmly before the two predators and casually licked a black paw.

If Stark had had eyebrows in this form, he would have been raising them, Loki was sure. Instead, the lion blinked at him several times, and then reached out with a paw, obviously aiming to pat Loki’s head. Loki hissed at him and caught the large paw – easily twice as big as his head – between his own, rolling onto his back with it and kicking out with his back legs.

The lioness sat back on her haunches and huffed, obviously amused, as Stark lifted his paw up again, Loki’s black form dangling from it, until the comparatively tiny cat was at his eye level. He studied the menace that was still trying to kill his paw, whipcord tail lashing, and then brought it closer to his head.

And _licked_ a line straight up the smaller feline’s back.

With an offended and disgusted yowl, Loki immediately dropped back to the ground, the fur now matted with lion saliva sticking up in unruly tufts from where it had been rubbed the wrong way and the fur that _wasn’t_ drenched fluffed up.

Pepper put a paw over her face, and Stark made an amused sound, as Loki hissed and spat at him. Once he felt he’d exhausted his feline vocabulary at Stark – not that it had seemed to cow him or make him remorseful in any way – Loki turned his attention to smoothing out his fur. He was just thankful that he wasn’t a _real_ cat; it meant he could restore himself with a brief wave of seiðr, rather than having to actually groom the mess himself.

_Then again_, he thought, as the last wash of magic passed over his tail, _coughing it back up as a hairball directly onto Stark would have been a suitable revenge…_

Stark lowered his head to nudge at Loki, ignoring the swat Loki gave his nose, then he turned and padded away towards the top of the ramp leading down to the rest of the nightclub. He paused at the top, surveying his kingdom, then drew in a breath, and _roared_.

Loki didn’t blame everyone below for the stunned silence that fell. The roar had been loud enough to vibrate the floor. Stark must be exceedingly confident of his soundproofing if he did that on a regular basis, and, judging from the way Pepper came up behind him and nipped his flank in reproach, it was quite obvious he did.

Pepper’s movement seemed to break the stillness that had fallen, and a cacophonous noise arose from the floor below them, animal sounds mixing with human cries – including one “Long live King Simba!” that Loki didn’t understand. Stark turned his head to nuzzle against Pepper then turned back to roar again, although not quite so loudly this time. And then, with a quick tensing of muscle, he was gone, bounding over the railing to land with a _thump_ on the floor below. Pepper shook her head and followed at a much more regal pace down the ramp.

Loki strolled over and sat himself down at the top of the ramp, watching as the two of them wove their way through the club, greeting both people and animals as they went. It would not be long before Thor – or, more likely, Odin – discovered that Loki was not on Asgard as they thought he was. It was debatable about whether they’d send someone to fetch him like an errant cub or whether they’d just wash their hands of him and call him banished. If it came down to it, that ridiculous human agency might try and cause problems if they discovered him still here, too, in retaliation for what Loki had done to their agents.

Stark, however, did not seem the type of person to so easily give up things he considered _his_, and Loki was fairly certain that he’d been taken under the Midgardian’s not inconsiderable protection.

Loki smirked to himself as Stark circled back around towards the ramp. _Yes, this has turned out quite nicely_, he thought. And then, casually, _I wonder whether Thor ever described a bilgesnipe to them…_

And with a twist of his seiðr, he leapt over the rail, and pounced.


End file.
